The Heart is Hard to Translate
by SSAEmilyHotchner
Summary: Oneshot. With his suit handsomely pressed and his speech in hand, Hotch was more than ready to walk down the aisle a second time. This BAU wedding was not at all what Hotch had expected, however - and not at all how he had imagined it in his head.


**Author's Note: I really don't know where I was going with this story, only that it's been on my mind for a while, and it was all I could think of when I ideally should have been studying for exams. I hope you all enjoy! As always, thanks so much for reading. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters.**

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"Are you ready?"

Hotch stared at his reflection in the pristine mirror positioned before him. The perfectly pressed elegantly tailored charcoal grey suit, the lavender silk tie, the violet and white rose boutonniere; it was all so beautifully appropriate, given the handsome surroundings of the cathedral they were in. Yet it was all so strangely out of place as well. After all, Hotch hadn't imagined this day would ever come; in his imagination, the scene had always been different.

Combing a hand through his hair in the way that _she_ had once let slip that she liked, Hotch finally turned to his friend and gave him the slightest of smiles. "As ready as I'll ever be," he answered, trying his hardest to keep any and all emotion from his tone. Striding toward the door that would lead out into the church foyer, Hotch was ready to join the procession at the front of the chapel when Dave's voice stopped him once more.

"You're sure about this?"

Hotch sighed, downcast his gaze. "Dave...we've been over this. Of course I'm sure; I would never lie to you." Dave was silent. "There's nothing more I can do about it. You know her happiness is all I care about."

But in his typical kindly flippant and dismissive way, Dave placed a hand on his friend's arm and said, "I was talking about your speech, Aaron. I just wanted to make sure you had it with you and that you were adequately prepared." Then he smirked, hoping to dispel the tension in the air. "What were _you _talking about?"

Hotch looked at him for a long moment, then rolled his eyes and allowed his lips to curve upward once more. "Nothing, Dave. Nothing." Casting one last glance at his worn reflection in the mirror, Hotch was leaving the room when he heard Dave's voice resound in the otherwise empty space. Reid and Morgan - and another British man whose name Hotch, for the life of him, couldn't remember - had long left the room to consort with the array of beautiful bridesmaids gathered there for the wedding.

"You're a good man, Aaron," Dave said. "She knows that. And in her own way, she loves you for it."

_I know. But it's not enough, _Hotch wanted to say in response. But instead, he just nodded and left without another word; only a single swipe at his tired eyes.

~.~.~

Emily was anxiously running a hand over the white eyelet lace of her dress when she heard the music begin playing from somewhere outside her door. It wasn't that she wasn't ready to be married, or even that she wasn't ready to walk out the door and down the aisle; she was _more_ than ready. In fact, if she were honest with herself, she would readily admit that she had been waiting for this day for a very long time.

Still, butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Mere paces outside the door, Emily heard the distinct swish of lilac-colored satin as her bridesmaids walked past, headed by JJ. Everything was just as perfect as she had hoped it would be; yet she still couldn't bring herself to make the few steps to the hallway outside. All in all, she was afraid. Not nervous; afraid.

Afraid to see the look on _his _face.

_He had his chance_, she reminded herself. _You loved him for much too long; it's not your fault that he opened his eyes after you had finally moved on. _But even with the reminder, she wasn't ready to face him. She wasn't ready for the plastic smile she knew would be on his face, she wasn't ready for the stiffness in his arms as he'd take her into his friendly embrace, she wasn't ready for his words of bittersweet congratulations.

She loved him; but not in that way.

Emily sighed to herself as she ran a hand over her elegantly coiffed hair. Tiny white flowers were braided into her ebony locks, cascading down a single shoulder in a way her hairdresser had assured her would make all the men stare. Even when she reminded him that she only wanted _one_ man's attention and affection, the wise old man just smiled and continued braiding. Whether or not there was something true in his gaze, Emily didn't know.

And as the music grew louder and she became privy to the knocking on her dressing room door, Emily finally listened to her heart and pushed any and all thoughts of the old man - and the _other man _- out of her head.

A beautiful smile was playing at her reddened lips as she opened the door to reveal the man to whom she had entrusted with so many secrets; the man who was giving her away.

"You ready?" Dave asked, extending his hand for her to take.

"I've never been more ready in my life," Emily said earnestly.

And the dressing room door swung shut behind them.

~.~.~

He watched, the most glorious smile of all on his face, as she came down the aisle, the click of her heels barely registering against the dark wood floor as she neared him. It was almost as if he were in a dream; for he'd had many dreams that started just like this.

She was the most magnificent creature he had ever laid eyes on. Hair as dark as night caressed the bare porcelain skin of her shoulders, full strawberry-pink lips shot him a quick smile, mysterious eyes seemed to peer straight into his heart. Even when she wore the simplest of things or didn't smile, she still looked magnificent. But with the stunning white of her dress? She was an angel.

As Dave theatrically wiped an exaggerated - but very real - tear from his eye, he saw Emily give his hand a small squeeze, her comforting, sweet laughter reaching his ears. It was the most delightful sound; he'd never be able to tell her enough times just how much it made his heart soar when he was feeling down. Emily had always had that effect on him; she never failed to make him...happy.

Five paces more and they would be face to face. As she neared, the music seemed to slow its pace, becoming less impassioned, more relaxed; the exact opposite of how he felt at the moment.

Three paces more. Tearing his gaze from the blushing bride, he took in the sight of the people sitting patiently in the pews, watching with excited and happy expressions written across their faces. So many families; so many friends. It was no secret that Emily had touched so many lives, and looking around the chapel, the generosity and caring of her kind heart was more than adequately displayed. So distracted was he that he didn't realize how close she was to him until it was much too late.

One more step. As their gazes met from across the altar, he felt his heart skip a beat, and unexpectedly, his breath caught in the back of his throat. He was like a lovestruck teenager; a pathetic, groveling, lovestruck teenager who had fallen for the girl he would never have.

The distance closed between them and, throughout the chapel, all was silent...except for a single whisper.

_"Hi, Aaron_._"_

And then, with a smile that effectively broke his heart, Emily turned away and faced _him _- her soon to be husband.

~.~.~

"You look beautiful," he mouthed, their priest speaking all the while to the crowd that had gathered to see them united in holy matrimony.

Emily couldn't help it; the slightest blush colored her cheeks at his sincere compliment. "So do you." Oblivious to everyone else around them, they simply gazed into each other's eyes, speaking volumes about their relationship with just a single heartfelt glance. They'd had more than their fair share of obstacles to overcome, but while many factors had worked to keep them away from each other for nearly six years, the feelings they'd had for each other _then_ had never truly disappeared. With every hardship, their love had grown stronger.

Until, finally, they had made it to the altar.

As the priest's weighty words continued filling the space around them, Emily's gaze traveled to the light that spilled through the stained-glass windows overhead. Something about the colors was so inherently familiar, and reminded her of a time that had once been the most frightening and beautiful time of her life. Memories niggled at her brain; calloused hands twining with hers as they fisted cool cotton sheets, celery green colored curtains billowing in the wind, a skyline with the faint silhouette of the Eiffel Tower -

_Paris_.

It was where they had first fallen in love, a city where they were surrounded by strangers, a city where their names held no meaning. She remembered the night they had told each other their secrets; her abortion at fifteen, his previous loveless marriage with a woman who would later disappear completely. It was the night Emily told him she was quitting her job, the night they had vowed to never forget one another.

And how could she forget him, when he had saved her life in Prague?

Finally, the words they had waited seemingly lifetimes to hear reached their ears. Hands intertwined as they had been in France, he brought them to his lips and kissed the finger on which rested a new gold band.

"I do," he whispered in response, his faded blue eyes holding hers all the while.

"And do you, Emily Prentiss, take this man, Clyde Easter, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

Emily smiled dazzlingly, making every man in the room just the slightest bit dizzy. "I do."

For a split second, Emily snuck a quick glance in Hotch's direction, briefly thinking about how distinguished and handsome he looked in his suit, how gentlemanly and kind it was for him to have been her best man. All this was running through her head as the priest spoke his final words.

And then, Clyde's hand was caressing her cheek and his lips were on hers - and all else faded away.

~.~.~

"Aaron?"

He turned at the sound of her voice, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It was a strangely liberating feeling, watching her approach him with that glittering ring on her slender finger. Any number of days - or even hours - earlier, the sight would have filled him with a debilitating jealousy. But what he had told Dave had been the utmost truth; all he wanted was her happiness. And, as he had watched Emily smile against Clyde's lips as they took part in their first kiss as husband and wife, happiness for her had been all he had felt. There was still a part of him that wished he could go back in time and tell her how strongly he felt for her, how much he loved her...but that part would always be there. It was all a matter of acceptance and having the ability to move on.

Hotch smiled into her hair as she outstretched her arms for a hug. "Yes, Emily?"

"I just...I wanted to thank you. For a lot of things," she added a beat later. "Tonight wouldn't have been nearly the same if you hadn't been my best man. It means so much to me; and to Clyde as well."

"You're welcome," he said simply, his gaze earnest and warm. "You're one of my dearest friends, Emily; you know I'd do anything for you." Hotch hadn't meant for it to sound anything other than sociable; but, without another word, the dark-haired partners were transported to a scene that took place one balmy European night. She had been frustrated and lonely and maybe even a little bit scared, he had been burdened, worried, and lost. Both had been desperate.

Both had had so much to say to one another.

They had said it with their bodies.

All those months ago, they had gone in knowing it - whatever their 'it' was - was something that wouldn't be able to last, especially under their given conditions; but they did it anyway. And it had been glorious, there was no denying it. But it was the_ past._

Emily cleared her throat quietly, pulling both of them back into the present. She didn't miss the wistful look on Hotch's face; she wondered if a similar look was gracing her features as well. "Listen, uh...my husband's dancing with my maid of honor," she noted, smiling as she gazed over Hotch's shoulder at a scene behind him. "Think you'll let me dance with my best man?"

Hotch offered her his hand. "I think that can be arranged."

"I'm glad." And then, with a sweet mouthed _"__I love you"_ to Clyde, Emily allowed herself to lean against Hotch's broad chest and lose herself in the music that surrounded them. In Hotch's arms and under Clyde's loving gaze, she had never felt more safe in her life.

And, after the months she had lived under the fear instilled by an angry ex-lover and arms dealer, that safety was a feeling she wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

**THE END.**

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**Author's Note: I initially wanted this story to be one of those vague marriage plot-lines where the readers don't know who is getting married to whom until the very end, but I just couldn't do that to Clyde, not when I already made him suffer in "A Special Kind of Sadness." This was his chance at love with Emily, I guess. (Go ahead; tell me I'm crazy.)**

**Anyway, thank you so very much for reading! Please take a minute to leave me a much-appreciated review; feedback on pretty much all of my stories has been down lately, and I want to know what I can do to improve my writing! Thank you in advance! :)**


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